


Code Name: RED

by BurbWatcher



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: A lot of bad stuff happens to Ash, But he’s got Pokémon, But he’s only 13, Character Death, Gen, He’s ready for some revenge, M/M, Pokemon - Freeform, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Violence, You’ll see why - Freeform, ash is gay, ghost pokemon, so no sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 11:52:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17344763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurbWatcher/pseuds/BurbWatcher
Summary: The dream of every kid is to be a Pokémon trainer. Some even dreamed of being Pokémon Masters, trainers that were so skilled that they were almost unbeatable. The truly ambitious ones would settle for nothing less than the Hall Of Fame, where only the Champions could write their names. Ash had thought that was what he wanted, but the time for childish dreams are past. With blood in his eyes, there was only one thing he wanted now.The complete and utter annihilation of the organization known as Team Rocket.





	1. Monsters Aren’t Real

 

**Episode One: Monsters Aren’t Real**

 

 

 

When Ash was eight years old, a monster moved into his closet.

 

After a few scary nights alone in the dark with the monster, Ash started asking his mother to leave the light on.

 

“Please Mom! If it’s dark, the monster will get me,” he cried. His mother, doting and kind, would promise to leave to hall light on for him. For a few nights, it even worked. The monster didn’t come as long as the ambient light from the hallway fell across the foot of his bed. Ash could sleep peacefully for the first time in days. The fourth night, however, broke the tentative hope that the monster was defeated. On the fourth night, just as he was about to drift off, a black clawed hand reached across the open door way and pushed the door shut.

 

Ash’s screams woke even the neighbors that night. The next morning, word had spread about the incident among Ash’s classmates. Even Gary, who Ash thought was his best friend, laughed at him and called him a scaredy-cat.

 

“Monsters aren’t real, Ash!” Gary declared, laughing. “Don’t be such a scaredy-cat! It was just a nightmare. Nothing real.”

 

Maybe if Ash had nodded and pretended to believe him, insisting himself that yes “Monsters aren’t real”, he might have been able to save face with the other children. If he’d known that while Gary was going about it all wrong, he was trying to help his friend, Ash might not have said what he did. Ash, however, was eight and filled righteous indignation and screamed for the whole school to hear.

 

“MONSTERS ARE REAL AND YOU’RE A JERK!”

 

Of course such an outburst wouldn’t go unpunished. Being made to stand in the corner was nothing, however, compared to losing his only friend and being ostracized by the rest of the children in Pallet Town. Ash was no longer invited to play Pokémon or Rhyhorn Racer. When he went to play by the creek, the other kids left to play in the field. Eating lunch at school had become such a lonely affair that Ash began eating in the library where he could at least pretend to not want any company.

 

It turned into a vicious cycle, where his encounters with the Monster became worse as his isolation and subsequent depression increased. Soon his very aura became such a foreboding presence that even Pokémon found him intolerable to be around. The growlithe from Prof. Oak’s Coral, whom Ash had been good friends with, now flinched and ran away when Ash got too close.

 

Physically, Ash was deteriorating to the point where his Mother had become terrified for her son’s health. The town doctor, however, could find no sickness in him other than the insomnia that had turned the skin below his eyes dark and baggy and the rest quite pale. His solution was a tincture to help him sleep soundly. It tasted awful, but Ash did his best and took it before bed. The next morning Ash woke in his mother’s arms. He never found out what exactly had happened, but the sleeping medicine was never administered again and they didn’t go back to the doctor.

 

As his condition worsened, Ash could tell his mother was suffering. He tried his best to cope and pretend he was stronger than he was, but the weeks of nightly torment were taking their toll. He’d sleep through class so often that teachers began complaining that he should stay home. Finally they got their wish. It was decided that Ash would stay home until his health improved after the current semester ended in a week. Some children had taken that as favoritism. Ash wouldn’t have to go to school anymore like the rest of them. So in retaliation, they locked him in a closet at the back of the library during the lunch period on his last day of school. Upset that he would miss the special assembly (A very cool pokemon trainer was supposed to be there!) he cried and banged on the door. The only light in the closet came from the thin space beneath the door.

 

“HELP!” He shouted for several minutes, hoping the librarian would come back from his break and find him. “SOMEBODY PLEASE LET ME OUT!”

 

Finally the light beneath the door darkened. Somebody had found him. Ash should have been relieved, but his skin broke out in fresh goosebumps and he had to clap his hands over his mouth to keep from screaming, because he knew that the Monster was on the other side of the door. Even though the Monster had never attacked him outside his bedroom, Ash just knew.

 

**LET ME IN**

 

“N-no,” Ash whimpered through his hands. The doorknob began top rattle violently, as the eight year old pressed as far back into the cramped closet as he could.

 

**LET ME INNN**

 

“No!” Yelped Ash.

 

The door knob stopped rattling and the shadow left from in front of the door, allowing a little light to fill the crack beneath. The Monster had left.

 

**GOT YOUUU**

 

Black claws grabbed Ash’s shoulders from behind and the closet disappeared into pitch black darkness.

 

Ash screamed and the Monster fed.

 

When they found him, Ash was curled into a tight ball, rocking himself deliriously. Even more shocking for the teachers, a section of his black hair had turned pure white. His mother was called, and though he was in no state to notice, a man who was not a teacher had kelt down beside him and placed a soothing hand on his back.

 

* * *

 

 

When Morty had agreed to talk about ghost type Pokémon at some schools in Kanto, he had not expected his presentation to be interrupted by blood curdling screams.

 

Ok, that was lie. As a ghost type trainer, soon to be master, he had expected some of the very young children he was showing ghost Pokémon to have some fearful reactions. A couple screams actually wouldn’t have been that out of place. The problem was that he hadn’t even released his Pokémon yet and the screams weren’t coming from the auditorium.

 

He, along with a few teachers, ran out of the auditorium and toward the tortured screams of what was surely a young child. Morty released his Haunter and sent her ahead, hoping the quick ghost would make it there in time to save the child from whatever was hurting them. Haunter needed hardly any instruction. She loved to play with children more than anything and would send whatever was hurting that child shrieking into the distortion realm.

 

Following the screams led them to an empty library and a closet with a chair pushed up against the door knob. Tearing the chair away and opening the door, Morty was greeted with the sorry sight of a little boy curled in a ball and crying hysterically. Reaching in, Morty placed a hand on the boy’s quivering back and very nearly flinched away at what he felt.

 

Behind him the teachers were talking amongst themselves.

 

“Oh no, it’s Ash! What happened to his hair? It’s turned white!”

 

“We’ll have to call his mother again. April, could you go now and do that?”

 

“Another one of his episodes. Not only disruptive in class, but now this?”

 

“Mary, it’s not his fault! He didn’t lock himself in that closet. The poor boy is sick, but he’s not a troublemaker!”

 

Hearing enough, Morty reached in and picked the boy up from the closet. Turning on the teachers with a harsh look on his face, especially for “Mary”, he asked where he could take the boy to wait for his mother.

 

“His classroom is empty now,” Said one of the teachers, Tara or Teresa maybe, Morty wasn’t good with names. “April went to call Ash’s mother. She’ll be here soon. I can wait with him while you finish the assembly Mr. Rannells.”

 

“No,” Morty was quick to deny. “I’ll be staying with him and won’t be able to finish my presentation today.”

 

When the teachers looked like they would protest, he cut them off.

 

“Though you can rest assured that I will be returning to make my presentation. It seems that my knowledge is sorely needed if a vengeful spirit could be feeding on this child’s life force for what had to be months, without a single person in this town noticing! In fact, I’d like to instead have a presentation in the town square and make it mandatory for everyone in Pallet to attend.”

 

“W-what do you mean vengeful spirit?” Asked Ms. Mary, her face gone pale.

 

“Haunter, show them what has been slowly killing their student.” Morty ordered, too furious to be understanding or forgiving. Not with the poor boy, Ash, quietly trembling in his arms. If these people actually knew anything about ghosts, it would have never gotten this far.

 

From the ceiling of the library dropped Haunter, and in it’s disembodied claws struggled the twisted body of Banette, the marionette Pokémon. Once the teachers had gawked enough at it, Morty drew a pokeball from his belt and captured the spirit. Haunter gave him a displeased look, making it clear that the child-killer would not make an acceptable teammate to her. She had nothing to be disgruntled about, however. Morty had no intentions of training the banette. He only wished to seal it somewhere it couldn’t hurt Ash ever again. The ghost would stay in that pokeball for the rest of its existence.

 

With Tara-Teresa leading the way, Morty took Ash to a brightly decorated classroom with many little chairs tucked under rows of tables where the children must do most of their learning. Ash had recovered enough to stand on his own, so Morty set him down and let the boy walk over to his seat.

 

“Is there anything he can eat?” Morty turned to the teacher to ask. “He needs food to help replace the energy Banette stole from him.”

 

“Here,” Tara-Teresa walked over to her own desk and picked a lunch box out of a drawer. “He can have my lunch.”

 

“Thank you,” Morty replied, taking the lunch from her and walking to the back of the classroom where Ash sat quietly. He set the box onto the table and took the food out. Handing the thermos to Ash, Morty implored him to drink. The white-banged boy dutifully took a few sips before setting the thermos down.

 

“Am I in trouble, again?” He asked, clearly expecting a reprimand.

 

“No,” Morty denied firmly, trying his best to not let any of his anger show. Ash would think it was for him and nothing could be further from the truth. “No, you aren’t in any trouble. You were attacked and hurt. That is not your fault.” What he said seemed to surprise the boy enough for him to look up and it’s the first time Morty could see his eyes.

 

Red. So dark, they could almost be mistaken for brown, but Morty was sure they were red.

 

“The Monster—” Ash hesitated, “You believe me?”

 

“Yes,” Morty assured him, reaching out and putting a hand on the child’s thin shoulder.

 

“No one’s ever believed me before,” Ash admitted quietly, glancing at his teacher who was loitering in the doorway, probably looking out for the boy’s mother to arrive.

 

“Do you know what a ghost Pokémon is, Ash?” Morty asked, hoping he was doing this right and wouldn’t traumatize the boy anymore than he already was.

 

“Um, yeah . . . A Gengar is a ghost Pokémon right? I read about them in the library. They evolve from Ghastly and Haunter. They like to scare people for fun, but it’s not . . . It’s not like the Monster. The Monster wanted to hurt me.” Ash quietly whispered the last.

 

Arceus, this kid had been through too much. How could he explain what he needed to explain without scaring the kid even more.

 

“You’re right,” Morty said, “Ghost pokemon normally don’t want to actually hurt anyone. They like to play pranks and scare people. Some kinds of ghosts even feed on humans, though never so much that it would hurt. My Haunter sometimes eats my nightmares so I don’t have them.”

 

“Wow, mister! You have a Haunter? Can I see?”

 

“The name is Morty Rannells, though you can call me Morty,” the ghost trainer offered. “And Haunter has actually been in this room the whole time. You should check your bag.”

 

Morty chuckled at the shocked face Ash made before the boy turned around and unzipped the book bag hanging from the back of his chair. The laughter of the boy was heartwarming as he watched Haunter pretend to be stuck inside his bag. When Haunter finally “squeezed” her way out of the bag she started making funny faces at the boy, and being only eight, Ash happily returned them.

 

“Okay, okay! That’s enough,” Morty insisted much to the disappointment of Haunter and child alike. “Ash you have to eat some lunch, or you’ll end up feeling really sick later.” He pushed the lunch towards Ash, just a sandwich and apple.

 

“Ok,” Ash agreed, taking the sandwich and devouring it like a ravenous beast. Morty had seen better table manners from Haunter and that is saying something. Noticing his stare, Ash blushed. “I’m always really hungry, no matter how much I eat.” The boy explained.

 

“That’s because of the Monster,” Morty tried to explain in words Ash would understand. “The Monster is actually a ghost type Pokémon called Banette. Banette feed from bad feelings like anger, sadness, and fear. Banette was feeding from you, so that’s why you were always hungry. Tired too, I bet.”

 

“Yeah,” Ash confirmed quietly. “I’m always falling asleep in class. The teachers don’t want me here anymore. Mom says I’m going to stay home and get better, but home is where the Monster lives.”

 

“Not anymore!” Ash looked up, surprised at Morty’s words. “The Monster, or Banette, has been caught. I have it trapped right here, in this pokeball.” Morty brought out the pokeball and set it on the desk so Ash could see. The boy seemed amazed, and Morty could relate. Such an unassuming device, the pokeball, yet it could imprison even the strongest and most malicious Pokémon.

 

“It—it’s gone? It can’t hurt me anymore?”

 

“No,” Morty said firmly. “It will never hurt you again, I swear.”

 

“Pinky swear?” Ash held out his pinky, a determined look on his face.

 

“Pinky swear,” Morty promised, wrapping his much larger pinky around the boy’s.

 

* * *

 

 

Ash’s mother, a pretty woman named Delia, was soon there to pick up Ash. She was, rightly, very upset at what had happened to her son. Morty suggested that they return to the family’s home so Ash could get some rest and he and her could talk. They left Ash sleeping in Delia’s room, because knowing the Banette was caught did not negate all of the torment the boy had gone through in his own room, the place he was meant to feel safest.

 

Sitting at the small dining table in the kitchen, Morty could see that Delia had been drained almost as much as her son, though in a different way.

 

“Thank you so much, Mr. Rannells. You can’t imagine what it’s been like these past few months, watching my son suffering and not knowing what to do. Everyone, even the doctors, kept telling me that he was going through a phase or acting out for attention, but I knew—I knew there was something wrong. I just—I never thought a Pokémon could be hurting him,” Delia cried into her hands.

 

“Most people don’t know what some ghost types are capable of. You could say that they are the closest to humans out of all Pokémon. Just like us, they are capable of incredible acts of benevolence but also great cruelty. The Banette feeding on your son was filled with hatred for him, and it was uncommonly cruel because of it,” Morty explained.

 

“But why? Why did it want to hurt Ash?” Delia asked.

 

“I have a theory,” Morty replied. “Has Ash thrown away a beloved doll recently? Banettes are born from discarded dolls that were once loved greatly. Ash seems about the age where he wouldn’t want to be seen with a doll.” From the shocked look on Delia’s face, Morty can see that he had hit the nail on the head. “Banettes created this way are filled with hatred for children and a desire for vengeance on the child who abandoned it.”

 

“That’s—Yes, yes Ash lost his doll almost 6 months ago. It’s name was Ruffles and he took it everywhere, but he didn’t throw Ruffles away! It was accidentally left behind on a field trip to Viridian City. Ash cried over it for days. You’re saying that Ruffles tried to kill my son?” Delia looked appalled. Who would have thought such a inconsequential thing, as leaving a doll behind in a museum, could almost kill a little boy. “Toys are left behind and discarded all the time. Why was it my little Ash that got hurt?”

 

“I’m sorry, Ms. Ketchum, but I don’t know,” Morty admitted, wishing he had better answers for the mother. “No one really knows why some dolls turn into Banette and others don’t. It’s such a rare phenomenon, that studying it is almost impossible. Most banette come from their pre-evolutionary forms, shuppet. Unlike normal banette, the ones that are born from abandoned dolls usually become child predators and must be destroyed without capture,” Morty explained. It was only through Haunter’s unique abilities that Morty was able to catch this Banette. Vengeful banette were rarely discovered before they killed their child victim, and once that happened they often returned to the spirit world. Morty didn’t think Delia needed to know that. He was sure she would have enough trauma from this incident, without having to think about what could have been.

 

They sat in uncomfortable silence for many long minutes. Occasionally they took sips of their tea. Just as Morty was starting to think he should leave, Delia spoke up.

 

“This banette that you caught,” Delia hesitated before continuing. “What are your plans for it? Could it be used to find out why a doll can turn into a banette?”

 

“I—,” Morty was too shocked by suggestion to answer at first. “I was planning on locking this murderous spirit away for the rest of its existence. A vengeful banette has never been caught before. It could very well return to Ash as soon as it’s released. It would have to be turned over to a ghost master for the risk to even be reduced enough to try, and there are very few of those around. Even then, to keep Ash safe, it’s my duty to safeguard this pokeball. Even if the Revenant Crone asked me to turn over the banette, I would refuse.”

 

Perhaps Morty was being a bit dramatic, but he wasn’t lying. The first thing he’d do after returning to Ecruteak would be locking the vengeful banette’s pokeball away in the spirit tower, where it’d be guarded by warrior monks until the monastery itself crumbled.

 

“Good,” Delia sighed. “That’s good. I was making plans with my sister in Alola, for me and Ash to go stay with them. I’d hoped getting away from Pallet would help his illness, but I suppose we won’t have to do that now.”

 

“If I may make a suggestion,” Morty asked and waited for Delia to nod. “Go to Alola, and take Ash. The sunlight will do him good. The vengeful banette has done significant damage to his life force. He may always be prone to sickness or depression now. The trauma from what Banette did to him still lingers. He’ll likely be too uncomfortable to sleep in his room anymore, maybe even go to the school where he was attacked. Whether it’s just a vacation or you decide to stay, I highly recommend that you give Ash a safe place to heal far away from here.”

 

With that, Morty stood and bowed respectfully to Delia, who rose shakily. There was no more for him to say, and it was best for him to be leaving. He had a vengeful spirit that needed taking care of.


	2. So Long Alola

 

 

**Episode Two: So Long Alola**

 

 

“Go, pokeball!”

 

The metal sphere spun through the air, splitting open to reveal a grey interior lined in complex micro-circuitry. A red beam of light shoots out and connects with the nearest life form. DNA is analyzed, accepted, and then matter breaks down. The life form converts to light particles and data. The pokeball then records a vital blue print on how the creature is deconstructed, so that it can be reconstructed later. The lid snaps shut and locks. Suppression protocols are activated, but the sheer life force of the creature is fighting to reform so violently that it causes the device to rock to and fro. The pokeball’s programing is working furiously to store the data before it breaks free. Finally, the device stills and beeps, signaling that the Pokémon has been 100% converted to energy and it’s data has been successfully stored within the pokeball’s memory.

 

“Yes! We caught Sandygast, Rowlet!”

 

“Row-LET!” The little bird cheered, fluttering over to peck curiously at the pokeball that her old opponent had disappeared inside of. She was eager for another fight.

 

“Hey, leave that alone,” Ash laughed and picked up his two Pokémon with both hands. Sandygast, he stuck to the magnet on his belt, and Rowlet he lifted up to her favorite perch on top of his head. The little round bird plopped down on his hair and fluffed out her feathers so they were more exposed to the bright Alolan sun. A grass/flying type, Rowlet needed to photosynthesize or she wouldn’t have energy to battle later.

 

“Ash!” His mother called from the boardwalk. “Come here! We need to check in before the ship leaves!” She was easy to see in her pink dress and large sun hat. Several suitcases were set down around her.

 

“Coming!” Ash yelled back, already starting to jog back from where he’d been under the pier.

 

“Thanks for taking care of the sandygast, kid!” The lifeguard on duty called out. He was the one who’d mentioned a wild sandygast getting too close to the popular beach. It’d be bad for business if sandygast or even worse, Pallosand, started scaring the tourists away. Thankfully, Ash overheard the lifeguard mention it before a police officer could be dispatched to chase away the little ghost/ground type. More than anything, Ash wanted to be a Ghost Master and to do that he needed ghosts on his team.

 

“No problem,” Ash shouted back with a grin and a thumbs up. Ghost Pokémon were hard to come by, especially where he was going. He was ecstatic that he was able to catch another before he left. He probably wouldn’t be back on the islands for at least a year.

 

Running up to the steps his mom was waiting at, Ash brandished the new pokeball on his belt and waited smugly for her to notice.

 

“A new Pokémon already?” Mom looked exasperated. “We haven’t even gotten you registered for the Indigo League, yet. What if you get in trouble for having more than one? I told you that Kanto is much more strict about that than Alola is.”

 

“C’mon Mom,” Ash complained. “You know Kanto has almost no ghost types. If I’m going to be a ghost master I need ghost type Pokémon.”

 

“I guess we’ll deal with that when we get there,” Mom sighed. “At least you won’t have to explain yourself to some official, since Prof. Oak has offered to register you personally once we’re back in Pallet. Are you sure you want to train just ghost types? There’s a lot of cute Pokémon that aren’t ghost types. Rowlet is very cute.”

 

“Mo~om, Rowlet is going to evolve into a ghost type eventually.” Ash explained for what had to be the millionth time. “I like ghosts and they like me. It’d be a total waste to train anything else, Miss Grimsby even said so.”

 

The ghost trial captain was one of the strongest trainers in Alola and she thought Ash was a natural. She was the one who gave Ash Rowlet. Miss Grimsby had wanted him to stay and take the island challenge now that he was of age, but Mom had already made plans to return to Pallet. They’d been on “vacation” for almost 5 years now, so it was about time they got back. Not that Ash wasn’t excited to compete in the world famous Indigo League, because he couldn’t be more pumped honestly! It would just be hard going back to Kanto. He didn’t say anything, because Ash could tell Mom was really looking forward to going back, but Alola was his real home.

 

“Miss Grimsby again,” Mom scoffed and rolled her eyes. “If I have to hear one more thing about—“

 

“Ash!” Someone familiar yelled. Turning, Ash saw his best friend running towards him through the crowded boardwalk. Guzma was tall for his age, but slouched so much that he didn’t seem much taller than Ash when he reached them. “Hey Ms. K, can I talk to Ash before you go?”

 

“Oh alright,” sighed Mom. “I’ll check us in at the ticket office. You have your ticket, right Ash?”

 

“Yeah, Mom, right here” Ash replied, pulling out his ticket to the S.S. Clarice. It was a cruise liner that had brought tourists from Kalos to Alola and would now be leaving for Cinnabar Island in Kanto. The trip would take five days and then they’d have have find a boat to take them to Pallet Town from there. Ash had heard that there were sometimes Pokémon tournaments on cruise liners. He hoped there’d be one on the S.S. Clarice.

 

“Okay then,” Mom reached down to kiss Ash on the forehead, much to his embarrassment. Guzma, the jerk, was laughing behind his hand. “Meet me on the ship, then. Don’t be late!”

 

With a glare that promised a terrible punishment if he was late, Mom turned and walked off towards the pier where the cruise ships docked.

 

“Man, I can’t believe you’re actually leaving!”

 

“I can’t either, Guzzy,” Ash replied with a grin that hid just how nervous he really was. Crap, it really was happening, wasn’t it?

 

“Man, don’t call me that! I’ve told you before,” Guzma growled, grabbing Ash in a headlock. This, of course, got him a face full of angry Rowlet.

 

“Aaaaa! What the hell?! I thought that thing was a hat!”

 

“That’s Rowlet,” Ash laughed, straightening up so the bird could glide back and land on his head. “Miss Grimsby gave her to me the other day. I guess she was hoping now that I’m 13 that I’d take the island challenge. She was disappointed that I’m leaving, but she still let me keep her.”

 

“Ha-ha, I always thought that was a birds nest on top of your head. I guess I was right!” Guzma laughed hysterically, causing Ash and Rowlet to both pout. Embarrassed, Ash pulled up the hood on his sweater, tucking Rowlet under it so only her face was showing. Rowlet closed her eyes blissfully, loving that she had a cozy, dark place where she could rest near her trainer.

 

“Man, I don’t know anybody but you who’d wear a hoodie to the beach,” Guzma shook his head teasingly. Ash had lived in Alola for five years and still had the palest skin Guzma had ever seen.

 

“I have sensitive skin,” Ash whined, “And you know I hate sunscreen. Anyway, soon I’ll be in dreary Kanto where the sun isn’t out to kill me.”

 

“Yeah, about that,” Guzma got a serious look on his face and drew the lone pokeball on his belt. “Before you go I want to have battle. You haven’t had one yet, right? I want to be your first.”

 

“Sure,” said Ash easily. He wanted his first real battle to be special too. “Let’s go to the battlefield behind the Pokémon Center. It’s near the dock too, so I won’t miss boarding.”

 

* * *

 

 

“One on one, right?” Asked Ash, standing opposite to Guzma across the plain dirt battlefield.

 

“Of course it’s one on one, Slowpoke! We both only have one Pokémon—Wait! What the hell is that! You have two Pokémon already!” Guzma screeched, pointing at Ash’s belt.

 

“Ha-ha!” Ash laughed at Guzma’s gobsmacked expression. “Yeah, I caught Sandygast here just a little bit ago. You want to see what he’s got? I’m sure he’s not too tired to battle.”

 

“You better stick to your bird, Slowpoke! No way you can win against me with Pokémon you just caught!” Guzma yelled before pulling the pokeball from his belt and releasing his Wimpod. “Go Wimpod!”

 

“Alright then,” Ash grinned, feeling pumped and ready for battle. “Let’s whoop that bug, Rowlet!”

 

“Row-LET!” Screeched Rowlet as she shot out from under Ash’s hood like a little rocket and headed straight for Wimpod. Incredibly startled, the Wimpod turned and started running furiously away from the Rowlet chasing him.

 

“Um,” Ash said, watching his friend’s face grow redder and redder. “Are you sure Wimpod wants to fight?” The little bug Pokémon was actually devilishly fast, so even though Rowlet had it on the run, she was having a hard time catching up to it.

 

“Wimpod, stop wimping out!” Guzma finally shouted. “Use sand attack!” Listening to its trainer, the little bug started kicking up a cloud of sand around it.

 

“Rowlet, go higher!” Yelled Ash, and Rowlet being a very nimble flyer despite its looks, was able to avoid the dust cloud by rising above it. “Use leafage into the cloud!”

 

“Row-LET!” She cried as she released a mini tornado of glowing leaves into the dust cloud. He doubted it would hit since Rowlet was attacking blindly, but Ash hoped it would drive the cowardly bug type out into the open. Sure enough, the Wimpod darted out from the dust cloud that had become peppered with leafy projectiles.

 

“Rowlet use peck!” Ash called. “Put your all into it!”

 

“Wimpod use struggle bug!” Countered Guzma.

 

Wimpod were very limited in what they could do in a battle against such an agile flying type. It’d have to wait until Rowlet swooped in before it could attack back. Honestly, Ash could have easily won the match by having Rowlet stay high and attack relentlessly with her leafage attack, but where would be the fun in that?

 

Rowlet wheeled overhead once, before diving down at a break-neck speed. Her beak glowed white as she gathered her power for this one attack. To give some credit to Wimpod, the little bug didn’t flinch at the sight of his natural predator baring down on him. Instead, his body began glowing green as it readied it’s own counter attack. The two met in a little explosion of power that rose a cloud of dust around them. Ash and Guzma waited breathless for the dust to settle and reveal the winner.

 

When the cloud dissipated, Rowlet was standing victoriously on top of a clearly exhausted Wimpod. While Rowlet hadn’t beaten the bug into unconsciousness, it was clear that Wimpod had surrendered to the boisterous bird.

 

Ash laughed as he walked up to the two and held up his hood. Rowlet immediately took the invitation and shot underneath it so she could have a nap.

“Good job, Rowlet!” Ash dug around in his pocket before coming up with a couple brightly colored beans. “Here, have a treat.” Rowlet’s face emerged just long enough to pluck the red bean out of his fingers, before disappearing back under the hood. Kneeling down, Ash also offered one to Wimpod, who munched happily on it as Guzma came forward.

 

“Of course you won, Teacher’s Pet,” Guzma sighed, kneeling down himself to rub Wimpod’s back consolingly.

 

“You might have won if you showed up to class more, Slacker,” Ash laughed. It was an old joke between them. The straight A student and the slacking delinquent. An unlikely friendship as far as their teachers were concerned, but Ash and Guzma had got on from the moment they’d met. Back then Ash was still just a sickly foreigner with no friends. When a bully had tried to pick on Ash his first day of school, it was Guzma who stood up for him. Ash would never forget that.

 

“Let’s make a promise,” Ash said suddenly, looking at Guzma with a determined face.

 

“Oh, yeah? What’s that?” Guzma replied nonchalantly.

 

“I’m going to be a ghost master and you’re going to be bug master. We’re going to help each other be the best we can be,” Ash declared to the other boy.

 

“Yeah, but you’re leaving today. How are we going to help each other grow stronger if we can’t see each other and battle?” Guzma said bitterly. Looking down at his feet and scuffing at the dusty ground.

 

“The Global Trade System is launching in a month! We’ll be able to talk and trade Pokémon over the internet. There may even be a battling system added soon! I know you can’t come to Kanto because of your parents, but we’ll still be able to see each other until I come back after the Indigo League is over.” Grinning, Ash reached forward and grabbed Guzma’s arms in what he would have jokingly called a “manly hug”. “I’m going to catch the best bug types I can find, the ones you can’t catch here, and I’ll send them to you so you can have the strongest team. That way, it’ll almost be like I’m back here with you, right?”

 

Guzma’s face ran through a plethora of expressions, almost making him look constipated. When Ash pointed this out, Guzma nearly smacked him on the back of the head before he remembered the bird Pokémon that was nesting there.

 

“Idiot! Stop acting so cool! I know what you’re really like!” Guzma huffed crossing his arms in an aggressive pose that made him look like a total delinquent.

 

“Eh? You don’t think I’m cool?” Ash asked, scratching his cheek and pouting.

 

“Nah, you’re totally lame,” Guzma said with a straight face. “I’ll totally have to catch a bunch of really cool ghost types and send them to you to compensate for just how lame you are.”

 

Ash grinned and held out his fist. Guzma smirked back and bumped it with his. Sealing the deal.

 

“But if you end up losing to dumb ass Kukui at the Indigo Conference, I’m going to have to stop being your friend,” Guzma added.

 

“EH?!”

 

* * *

 

 

“So you actually made it,” said Mom, looking up from where she was already stretched out on a lounger by the pool. The S.S. Clarice had two on deck, which Ash found simultaneously ostentatious and awesome.

 

“Were you hoping I’d miss the boarding?” Ash joked. “Without me around, you could finally find a boyfriend.”

 

“Oh, I plan on doing that anyway,” Mom replied sweetly, causing her son to turn red. “I figure you’ll spend the whole trip below deck reading, or playing Pokémon with the other trainers on board, leaving me free to mingle at the pool with any attractive men I find.”

 

There was so much to unpack with that statement, but Ash settled on, “Mo~om! I’m a real trainer now. It’s not “playing” Pokémon anymore. I haven’t played Pokémon since I was like, ten.”

 

“Oh and that was so long ago!” She said sarcastically as she accepted a fruity drink from the machoke serving them on a tray.

 

“Urgh! I’m going to go see if there are any tournaments on this ship,” Ash said, stomping away.

 

“I’ll see you at dinner!” Mom called from around her straw.

 

* * *

 

 

Unfortunately, the main tournament had already happened before the S.S. Clarice got to Alola.

 

It had been epic, according to other kids he talked to. The final battle had been between a snorlax and a chesnaught. Both Pokémon had been evenly matched, slugging it out until finally the chesnaught won purely due to type advantage. The winner had won a really rare Pokémon too. Something called a honedge.

 

“It was a shiny honedge too!” Declared the boy named Claude that Ash had been chatting with in the trainers lounge.

 

The trainers lounge was actually an enormous room located right below deck. It had multiple smaller practice fields and one regulation sized battlefield. It was where the tournament had been held. Now they were all free to be used for casual battles.

 

“I had never seen a shiny Pokémon before then. It was incredible!” The blonde boy exclaimed, though his voice didn’t raise beyond indoor level. He was well mannered, though Ash could’ve probably guessed that by the pressed suit he wore.

 

“I bet,” Ash agreed. “My mentor, Miss Grimsby, has a shiny decidueye. She’s beautiful. She’s actually the mom of Rowlet here.” Ash indicated to the Pokémon sleeping under his hood.

 

“Does your rowlet look any different?” Claude asked. He had a thick Kalosian accent, but Ash found him easy enough to understand. Claude was surprisingly friendly despite how obviously rich he was. His family was moving to Kanto for his dad’s work. He’d told Ash that his mother probably wouldn’t let him travel to get badges on his own. Instead he’d be going to fancy prep school where graduation guarantees a place in the conference regardless of gym badges. It was a totally unfair system that favored the rich, but Claude seemed rather embarrassed about the whole thing so Ash let it go without comment.

 

“Nah,” Ash denied. “The shiny gene is recessive, so you’d have to breed two shinies of the same species to get a shiny offspring. You can imagine how ridiculously rare that would be.”

 

“Yes, I can imagine that,” Claude nodded. “It was strange, though. You would think anyone would be thrilled to get a shiny Pokémon, but the winner looked—I do not know—upset? Like he really wanted to just hand the pokeball back to the judge after the prize was revealed. It was a mystery up until that point, did I mention that? Maybe I am reading to much into it.”

 

“Why on earth wouldn’t he want it? A honedge right?” Ash asked, not quite sure what a honedge was. Kalos was so far away that he didn’t know a lot of Pokémon that were native to there. He hadn’t studied them like he had the Pokémon native to Alola, Kanto, and Johto. He’ll have to remember to get a book about them.

 

“Well, you know how superstitious some people are,” Claude shrugged. “Everyone is scared of ghosts, I suppose?”

 

“I’m not,” Ash replied. So honedge was a ghost type? Now he was definitely looking it up. “I’m going to be ghost master.”

 

“Truly? I have not decided if I want to specialize in a type. Do you not think it’s better to have a Pokémon of each type, so you can always have a type advantage?” Claude asked.

 

“No, type advantage can only get you so far. A truly well trained Pokémon can beat an opponent it’s weak against. Why else do you think the strongest trainers in the world are usually masters of one type? By focusing on one type I can train my Pokémon so much more efficiently, covering all their weaknesses and exploiting their strengths,” Ash replied. “Besides, how far can type advantage get you when you’re facing off against a whole team of expertly trained Pokémon, and you’re only relying on one or two Pokémon to carry you through? I don’t deny that a diverse team helps at first, but it takes a very skilled trainer to compete at the highest levels with a multi-type team. The only one I can think of in recent history is Cynthia, the Sinnoh Champion.”

 

Ash didn’t want to lecture to Claude, but this was something he was passionate about. He’d had many heated debates with his old classmate Kukui on the subject. Kukui had thought type advantage and move pools were everything there were to battling Pokémon. Maybe Ash would have the opportunity to prove just how wrong he was. Kukui would also be participating in the Indigo League this year. The hothead had dropped out of school a week before graduation and had run away to Kanto, yelling about how he’d be the Pokémon Champion. Guzma had a good laugh about that.

 

“Yes, I guess you have a point. I think I will see how it progresses with me and Fennekin. She will evolve into a fire/psychic type. Maybe I will be a fire or psychic master,” Claude shrugged and smiled. “So would you like to chat all day, or would you like to battle?”

 

“You know it!” Declared Ash, already running to claim one of the free practice fields.

 

* * *

 

 

The next few days were great. While Mom spent most of her time at the pool, Ash was able to battle in the trainers lounge to his heart’s content. While he lost a couple battles when he challenged more experienced trainers, he seemed to be the best amongst his peers. Better yet he made himself quite a bit in wagers. Beating a bunch of rich kids turned out to be great for his wallet. By the third day he’d made enough money to visit the high class trainer store that was located near the trainers lounge and buy himself a couple TMs. Claude, who’d become attached at the hip to Ash, had asked to come with him.

 

“If only you had not taken all my money, Ash, I to would be able to buy some TMs,” Claude sighed wearily.

 

Ash had found out, through more interactions, that Claude was not only a very laid back person, but also had a very dry sense of humor. Ash liked him well enough, but he found himself holding back a bit. It felt a little too much like betrayal to make a new friend so soon after leaving his best friend behind. There was no point getting to attached anyway. Claude would be going to private school soon, and Ash wouldn’t see him again unless they both ended up meeting at the Indigo Conference.

 

“Hey, I won all your money fair and square,” Ash protested, rolling his eyes. “Don’t pretend that you don’t have heaps more.”

 

“Mmm, yes, you are right,” Claude responded with a lazy smile. “I told my mother that a ruffian had taken all my money and she was happy to give me double the amount I had.”

 

“Spoiled brat,” Ash accused. Claude simply shrugged, not bothering to deny it. That was the thing about Claude. Though he was ridiculously rich and didn’t hide it, he didn’t think he was better because he had money. Unlike a lot of the kids that Ash had battled the past couple days.

 

Walking into the store, Ash was gobsmacked. He had been expecting a fancy pokemart with maybe a few rare items. What he found was a department store with product you’d never see in a pokemart. On one side was a department where you could buy honest-to-god Pokémon, and on another was a veritable wall of TMs to select from. Not to even mention the other departments that had everything from pokefood to battle enhancers.

 

“What is this placed called again?” Ash asked breathlessly, not knowing where to look first.

 

“Bellefleur’s,” Claude responded. “It’s a high end chain catering to serious trainers, both traditional and contest oriented. You see them mostly in big cities. I hear some are opening in Kanto.”

 

“Forget ghost master,” Ash joked. “My new dream is to get rich enough to buy everything in this store.”

 

“Good luck, mon ami,” Claude laughed, before pulling Ash over to the department selling Pokémon. While Ash gawked at the beautiful ninetails on display, Claude asked the clerk to see their selection of psychic type Pokémon.

 

“What’s that about?” Asked Ash when the clerk went to the back room to gather the psychic types. “You’re not actually going to buy one are you? These prices are insane!”

 

“Ah, but how am I ever to beat you if I don’t get more Pokémon? Fennekin is wonderful, but your sandygast has soundly beat her every time. You have also inspired me to look into becoming a psychic type master. This is truly all your fault,” explained Claude.

 

“But wouldn’t you rather catch your own?” Asked Ash. Something about buying a Pokémon rubbed him the wrong way. What if the Pokémon was captured illegally or using harsh methods? When he asked this, Claude chuckled.

 

“No, Ash, you misunderstand. Bellefleur’s is supplied by reputable Pokémon breeders from around the world. The rich and famous prefer captive bred Pokémon over wild caught, you see? They are much easier to raise that way. You could make the argument that it’s even more humane,” Claude explained with a passion, Ash hadn’t seen in him before. “Of course, it is currently too expensive to be an available option for every trainer, but in the future Pokémon breeding will replace capturing. Wild populations will need not be decimated by poaching, like the Lapras or Kangaskan’s have been.”

 

Ash wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Sure the way Claude explained it, made it sound like a good idea, but Ash didn’t like idea of having to buy Pokémon. Standard pokeballs were cheap compared to this, and if you’d asked Ash yesterday if pokeballs were cheap, he would have laughed.

 

The clerk returned with a tray filled with pokeballs. Claude would be able to choose his next partner from a dozen options. For a truly absurd amount of money he could have a smoochum or a mime jr. or a ralts. For a little less money he could choose between an espurr or an abra or a gothita. For a little more than all the money Ash had in his pocket, Claude could buy a drowzee or spoink. There were more, but Ash had seen enough.

 

“I’m going to look at the TMs,” Ash said, turning away.

 

“You don’t want to see if they have any ghost types? You were just telling me how hard it was to find them in the wild,” suggested Claude.

 

“I doubt they have any. Ghosts aren’t bred like other Pokémon,” Ash replied. It was true. Ghost types were formed in various ways, but hardly any of them could be bred, rowlet being one of the few exceptions.

 

“Alright,” Claude said easily, glancing at him before going back to the pokeballs. “I’ll come get you when I’m done here.”

 

Walking over to the wall of TMs, Ash had a sense of impending doom. How on earth could he choose?!

 

* * *

 

 

“So what did you decide?” Claude asked curiously as they walked to the dining room. They had spent hours exploring Bellefleur’s, so they were running a little for dinner. The corridor they were taking a short cut through was lined with guest cabins. The hall that Ash and his mom were staying at was very similar but a couple floors down.

 

“Toxic was the obvious choice,” Ash replied. “It’s one of the only TMs that’s teachable to every Pokémon. Dead useful in a battle since the potency of the toxin can increase based on the user’s skill.” Ash had seen Koga use the technique with deadly efficiency in the last episode of “Battle Star”, a new television program that broadcasted real gym battles from Kanto. There had only been a few episodes so far, but Ash was already hooked.

 

“Ah, thank you for the lecture, Prof. Ketchum. Will there be an essay due tomorrow?” Claude teased.

 

“Oh shove it!” Replied Ash, playfully pushing the other boy.

 

“And the other?” Claude asked with a smile.

 

“Energy ball. Both of my Pokémon can learn it,” said Ash as briefly as he could, making Claude laugh.

 

“Oh no, where has Prof. Ketchum gone?” The Kalos boy lamented, causing Ash to shake his head ruefully at his antics.

 

“So what Pokémon did you choose?” Asked Ash.

 

Claude opened his mouth to respond, but suddenly the S.S. Clarice rocked violently to the left, sending both boys flying against the hallway wall. Before they could get their bearings the power went out, throwing them into darkness.

 

“Claude are you ok?” Ash panted, his head stinging from the blow it took.

 

“Ash what is happening?” Claude replied, the other boy sounded scared. “Did we hit an iceberg?”

 

“No way,” Ash replied. “We’re in warm waters. There are no icebergs here.” The emergency lights hummed loudly and then activated, casting the hallway in a red light.

 

“Where is everybody?” Claude asked as he stood from where he’d fallen against a cabin door.

 

“They must already be in the dining room. We were late remember? We should get there quick and find out what’s going on.” Ash reached up to his throbbing temple and came away with blood. Claude was staring at him, pale and shaking.

 

“It’s ok, Claude. It’s just a cut.” Ash tried to reassure him, but Claude didn’t respond. It was then that Ash noticed that Claude was looking past him.

 

Why was it so cold all of a sudden?

 

Ash turned and saw something that would forever be on his list of most terrifying sights and that is a very competitive list even at this point in Ash’s life. Far down the long, scarlet-lit hallway stood a Pokémon whose silhouette, Ash couldn’t immediately recognize. It was the hoarfrost slowly spreading down the corridor, freezing the walls and doors, and the wickedly curved claws dragging along the plastered wall that sent recognition flaring in his brain.

 

“Viiiiiile,” The weavile hissed, baring it’s razor sharp teeth in a cruel smile. The hoarfrost crunched noisily from where it spread under the weavile’s paws as it stepped closer. Drawing its claws from the gouges it had left in the wall, the dark creature made a shooing gesture towards them. A mocking smile spreading across its darkly furred face. It’s intentions were clear.

 

Claude and Ash were its prey, and it wanted them to run.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Kudos are great but please leave a comment, so I know what you think. Praise helps me write faster, not gunna lie :^)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Kudos are great but please leave a comment, so I know what you think. Praise and adoration helps me write faster, not gunna lie :^)


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